An old city, like anyone who has lived a bold life, will have many scars. Over its lifetime, Charleston has weathered plagues, wars, fires, storms and earthquakes ”” events that left the city in ruins and terrified its residents.
Some scars from these traumatic times are still visible today; others healed outwardly but remain part of the city’s collective memory and are as real as the morning light.
Twenty years ago, Hurricane Hugo, a dark mass of spinning winds and vapor as big as the state itself, tore into South Carolina.
Those who went through the storm will never forget the rising waters, the freight-train wail of the winds, the Ben Sawyer Bridge tilting in the marsh, the pines snapped halfway up their trunks, the pink insulation everywhere, the convoys of people coming to help, the exhaustion at the end of a day trying to make things normal again.
Has it really been 20 years? I feel old.
Me too. Some anniversaries are cause for celebration, others for somber reflection. Kendall’s comment about the terrible sound of Hugo’s ferocious winds made me think somehow of Pentecost. I wonder what the sound of that “mighty rushing wind” was like? And what memories went with it?
Crises like a hurricane or war always bring out the best in some people, and the worst in others. We see that with natural disasters such as Hurricane Hugo in 1989. Or man-made disasters, like TEC in 2003 (and since).
David Handy+